Wednesday, March 18, 2009

My UPS delivery man for the past year and a half, André, is pretty
amazing. A French-Canadian who speaks five languages fluently, he makes
me laugh at least 2-3 times every day that I am at work. He is my guru
and friend, a perpetual optimist who snickers at my antics and doles
out good, sage advice.

When he came into the office today, he brought with him the smell of bacon and eggs.

"André, why do you smell like breakfast?"

He laughed and told me it wasn't him. But it was him
and I knew it. I have a heightened sense of smell and minutes later,
when Sarah from publicity walked by, I asked her if she'd shampooed her
hair this morning -she had- because the smell had enveloped me from
across the room (one of the things I miss about having long hair is that
aura of clean fragrance that hovers around your scalp).

André returned awhile later, "You were right! The bacon and eggs, it's from the 2nd floor."

"I knew it! I have superwoman olfactory glands! It's like, if not for smoking cigarettes I would smell too much; I would just be too overwhelmed." (I'll look for any any excuse to continue a bad habit.)

André
looked down at his electronic signature pad then back at me with a huge
smile stretched across his jaw. In his thick French accent he said, "I
keep thinking 'Are you real'?"

That question is theway to my heart. J'adore.
************************************************************************
I'm
getting back into philosophy and phenomenology. Now that I'm on a
sober kick, I can finally read for more than 5 minute intervals without
spacing out every time I see something shiny. Having been a voracious
reader since I could hold a book, my inability to focus as of late was
the cause of much much much distress and anxiety. Things are good now!
My brain is like a freshly released Bonsai kitten, all deep stretches
and expansion. So now I begin to exercise my bourgeois right and delve
into the contemplation of existence. Sweet relief.
Am IN LOVE with this pic of de Beauvoir and Sartre: